Handcuff Knot Novels & Stories

One of them jumped into the ditch, picked it up, and handed it to me. Fuck. They're good at fetching things. I took a glance at the rope and saw a strange knot at the end. "It's a sailor's knot, Alpha," one of the guards said. "I used to work on a boat. We have a special knot to secure the goods on board." "Are you sure about it, Lynel?" "Yes. But I'm not suggesting that I have anything to do with this rope, though." I grabbed the rope in my hand and threw the lighter back to Mick.

"Like this?" I grip the handle of the gun, using my dominant hand at the top of the handle and my other hand below it. Deacon uses his hand to adjust mine, sliding my lower hand up so it's not on the bottom of the handle. "Just like that. And squeeze it tight, but not too tight." "Well, how do I know I'm holding it too tight?" "If you're knuckles are turning white, then you're holding the pistol too tight."

Decker blindfolded her eyes and helped her to stand. “Give me your hand, my flower,” He slithered the soft feathered handcuffs on her wrist. “I am going to cuff your hand,” Is this his words or more that made her breath heavy? What he was going to do, nobody knows except Decker. Her closed eyes reminded her of the incident of her first night. She gulped the lump in her throat, thinking her game had trapped her in this situation. He pulled her hand over her head and tied it with a hook.

5 KM’ I recognized the name of that town from the assholes when they told me all about the road they were going to use to smuggle me through, and I knew this was my last chance to make these killers pay and maybe save myself from meeting that man. Discreetly and very quietly, my cuffed hands pushed the button to release my seatbelt from its locked place. Thankfully, the handcuffs around my wrists weren’t the usual short handcuffs used by the police. This one had a longer chain, making it easier to use my flexibility and bring my hands under my body so that my wrists were now bound from my front instead of my back. The man driving must have caught a movement or a sound from me, because he tur

rope, whatever that meant, and four carabiners. That night we Skyped and she taught me how to tie rope cuffs (hold the ends together and then loop them through the middle to create a slip knot and showed me how best to secure the chains to the chaise. Of course I was naked for this call, but I must have been doing something right because she let me get on my hands on knees facing the camera. She didn't have me bind myself or use any toys. She only let me reach between my legs with one hand and play with myself. Using my other hand to steady myself, I began masturbating.

He put some similar hooks/bracelets around my ankle cuffs as well. "These are a special addition to the cuffs," he stated. "They have a unique wire hook clasp on each so that, say, if I wanted to clasp your hands behind your back or to a special ring, I can do it and weave the clasp into the ring or another clasp, and it's next to impossible for the wearer to unclasp it unless they can see what they are doing. Since the clasp is often high overhead or behind their back, it's not easily done. It makes it easier for me to undo it and move you into different positions faster. It's so much better than fumbling with a padlock and keys."

Sawyer’s taste in jewelry is classy and expensive; I expected nothing less should she choose to wear a collar for me. My hands reached forward and carefully opened it. Nestled in the protective interior laid a yellow gold diamond padlock necklace. The charm itself was small, as was the chain. Modern but classic. A key came with, and I’d already paired it with a thin matching bracelet I planned to wear on my wrist if she accepted. I lifted the delicate piece out, turning the padlock over so I could read what I had engraved on the back. Angel Cake <3 The first and only affectionate nickname I’ve given exclusively to my current girlfriend.

Well, this one is not nearly big ass enough; it is going to be far too easy. While keeping a firm eye on the door, I follow the loops that flow into each other. The rope is not thick, and fairly easy to squeeze my fingers underneath. With each knot that flows into the left, I pull it out to the right. I tuck them one by one, into left, out to the right. Slowly they start to come lose and loser. With one final pull, the complete knot comes apart, and I slip my hands out.

Paetyn’s eyes widen upon seeing the two items in my hand and she wriggles on the spot, clenching her thighs together as her heated emerald eyes stay locked on me. With two easy steps, I’m kneeling on the mattress beside Paetyn’s head. I grip her right wrist and pull it toward the anchor attached to the wooden headboard. The handcuffs are metal but black fur lines the inside for comfort. Sliding the handcuff through the anchor, I secure one side around her wrist before reaching for the other and securing that one.

"Stupid." "Not stupid," he said. "Expensive. Keep it until it buys something you want." He tapped the coil with his boot. "You're going to saw through that with feeling. Go untie something that won't resent you for it." I let him take the bowl, my hands suddenly useless for carrying anything but rope and grief. I walked forward into the bow's small privacy and sat with a short length of line, making knots and unmaking them until the moon looked a little bitten. Bowline. Sheet bend. Two half hitches with a stopper. The Carrick bend my tutor had called pretty, and Jas had called a good way to die if you tied it for show.